What If?
by ardiethepenguin
Summary: Have you ever thought, "What if?" This story includes my collection of "What If's" to the Hunger Games Trilogy. Follow sixteen year old Peeta Mellark, as he goes on the adventure of his life, trying to save his dear sister from the deadly Hunger Games. Peetato.


Heyheyhey, Peetato shippers! I am back, well, I don't know if any of you remember me but I used to _contribute,_ so to speak, to the Peetato community a while back, and for some reason stopped in the middle of the year, on about, June.

It's quite a funny story actually, I was spending a day at the mall when suddenly I saw the poster for The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1! I of course, _fangirled,_ and then I thought about my OTP, Peetato.

What the heck? Why on Earth did I stop visiting ? I thought.

Soo, to celebrate the release of Mockingjay, I wrote this new story. I guess it's also to mark my comeback to this lovely community.

So yeah, as listed in the summary, this story includes my collection of "What If?'s" to the Trilogy, (ex. What if Peeta lived in another district? What if he had sisters?)

I made the Mellark family in this story to sound peaceful, not like the ruined family the book descripted, so I added a little bit of humor 'thingies'.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The Hunger Games Trilogy fully belongs to Suzanne Collins.

Anyways, the story! Yes, indeed.

The cold breeze of the Arena jolts Peeta awake. That, and the loud buzzing noise the timer on the Cornucopia is making.

_Fifteen_

_Fourteen_

_Thirteen_

_Twelve_

_Eleven_

_Ten_

As the timer decreases every second, Peeta thinks of how unlucky he has been during his life for the last few months.

But some people might not call it _unlucky_.

They would die for it.

_Flashback_

_Peeta_

I walk through the never ending woods of District 7. It's amazing, really, how our world is. Every year, twenty four children from the ages of twelve to eighteen are picked from the twelve different Districts of Panem to compete in an Arena and fight each other to death, until only one single tribute remains. These displays of courage and bravery are known as The Hunger Games.

I like to think that The Hunger Games is just, well, simply, a game. You'd only have to think of a strategy that will lead you to survive for as long as possible. But, what most people in District 2 don't know is that you _actually_ need intelligence to survive as well, not just brute strength.

Yes, District 2. The district which provides weaponry. I do personally know the district by a few or so, as my aunt lives there with her past-Hunger Games victor husband. Every few months or so, me and my family will visit District 2, by train, of course. Hovercraft travelling in Panem is strictly allowed only to be used by the Government, which, by the way, is led by President Snow.

My aunt and her husband have two children, Rei and Len. Len is a sixteen year old strong male, while Len is only fourteen, and she has a relatively small posture, but don't be fooled, she can be the worst person you can make enemies with.

A deer catches my attention, which is weird, since deer is not what you usually see in the woods of District 7. I prepare my trusty bow & arrow and shoot it right in the eye. Illegal hunting helps soothe my mind a little bit. My family lives in the rich section of District 7, or as people call it, the Merchant part of the district. The not-so-lucky people live in the poor section of the district, the Seam. Those who do not live in the Merchant section have to work as tree loggers or, lumberjacks. We merchants are pretty lucky, because the saw dust that comes from the wood when you cut them is dangerous for our health, if inhaled in large amounts.

The sun starts to set, so I cross the abandoned fence that forms a boundary between the district and the wilderness. I go on these hunts alone, as I feel like no one in this district understands me.

You see, when I was about the age of 14 I realized I was homosexual, or, as people like to call it, gay. I just wasn't feeling the lust I was supposed to have for girls. Instead, it went for boys.

Carrying the deer which I shot in the woods, I walk through the Seam section of the district, as the abandoned parts of the fence are only available there. The government doesn't really care about the poor people of Panem, and that's why they keep the fence on in the Merchant section of the district but not the Seam.

I live with my mother and father, and also my sisters, Mesquite, Teff and Almond. Mesquite is the youngest at age 12, while I am 16, Teff is 18, and Wheat is 19. Mesquite and I are the only people left in the family who are still eligible for the reaping of the Hunger Games, because Teff already had her birthday before this year's Reaping.

My family runs the one and only bakery in District 7, as only one of each shop in each lower district is allowed to be built, only one restaurant, one bakery, one clothing shop, etc.

My father doesn't really like me that much because he wanted four daughters, but I guess we can't get everything we want now, can we?

My mother on the other hand is sweet and caring, and she really doesn't care that I'm a boy or a girl, she just accepts me as her child no matter what. I wish my dad was like her.

"Teff? Almond? Mom? I'm home!" I shout, putting the deer carefully on the kitchen table.

"Oh hey, Peeta. Mom is about to go to the market with Dad to get ingredients for dinner tonight." Teff says, walking to the kitchen.

"Can you tell them to forget that plan? Because I already have tonight's dinner here with us in the kitchen." I say, hinting at the plainly obvious deer sitting on the kitchen table.

"Okay, be right back." Teff says while walking to our parents' room.

"Hey! Peeta! Where have you been?" Almond chirps cheerfully while coming in the house from the main door.

"You know, the usual." I say, while winking at her because of the _secret _hunts I go which I'm not allowed to tell anyone as there is a risk of me and my family getting, oh, I don't know, brutally tortured by the Capitol? You tell me.

"Hey Peeta, nice to know you brought us dinner tonight." Mom says, checking out the deer I brought home.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Semolina. I could've caught five of that thing with my bare hands back in the days." Dad says bitterly.

"Wheat! Stop being so mean!" Mom scolds Dad.

"Hell, I only said a sentence!" And then, Dad goes silent.

We giggle. It's pretty funny actually, how a tough man like my dad is very obedient to his wife.

"So how do you think we should cook this baby, eh?" My mom says, cheerfully.

"Grilled!" Teff says, in an instance.

"Roasted, duh." Almond says.

"I prefer stew.." I say.

And then all hell broke loose.

"No! Everybody knows grilled is the best way to cook deer!" Teff says defensively.

"That's so not true, Oh wait, it is, well if you count yourself as "everybody"." Almond says sarcastically.

"Oh boy." I say, while the argument keeps going. You see, the relationship between my sisters, Teff and Almond, aren't exactly what you would call a "healthy sisterhood", or whatever. Every ten minutes or so, one of them would always find a way to start an argument, even for the smallest reasons.

"Can we please settle this in a rational and unaggressive way, please?" I say, trying to be the adult one here.

"Fine. Let's get the rest of the family to vote. Peeta?" Almond says.

"Didn't I already tell you? I said I prefer stew." I say.

"Oh yeah, didn't quite hear you there. Mom?" She says.

"I don't really mind, but if I do have to choose, I pick…" Silent, competitive music starts to play, the one you'd hear when you watch the scene where the final two tributes of the Hunger Games fight to get the final spot.

"Stew." Mom says.

"What?! No no. You have to pick between Almond's and mine!" Teff says, sounding like the answer is unacceptable.

"Yeah!" Almond says. Hmm, that's weird. For once, she actually agreed with Teff.

"Now why do I have to do that? Mom says.

"Because, Peeta clearly won't care if his option gets chosen or not, as he is kind and patient, right, Peeta?" Teff says.

"_Yeah, right._" I say, shrugging.

"So which method do you prefer, Mom? Roasted, or grilled?"

"Fine, I prefer grilled, then." Mom says.

"Finally! What about you, dad?" Teff says, while Almond grunts.

"I don't really give a flying fuck. Choose what the fuck you want to cook." Dad says, bitterly.

"Well, I guess that settles it. Grilled it is!" Teff says.

-o-

We finish eating our delicious dinner, made with love by the whole family, well, besides Dad. Then, I remembered something.

"Hey, where's Mesquite?" I say, realizing we are missing one family member.

"Oh, don't worry, I checked on her before we prepared dinner. She's asleep, safe and sound. She's probably worried about the Reaping tomorrow. You know, it's her first time after all." Mom says, sounding calm.

"I don't know Mom, even though it's only her first year and her name's only written once there, there's still a possibility of her getting picked." I say.

"Yeah, out of like 23.000 people." Dad says.

"Don't be so crude." Mom says.

"I'm going to go check on her real quick." I say, getting up from the dinner table to Mesquite's room.

As I enter her room, I notice that she isn't actually sleeping, she's actually crying. So, I sit on her bed and comfort her.

"Hey, little kitty. What seems to be the problem here?" I say.

"I don't know, Peeta. I'm just scared about all this. You know, the Hunger Games and all that." She said, sobbing on her pillow.

"Shush, shush. Crying won't solve anything." I say.

"How about this, We get up early, at 5 A.M. tomorrow, and then I'll tell you a secret that will definitely comfort and help you through this." I say, making a deal to Mesquite.

"Okay, Peeta." Mesquite says.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Are you hungry? Because we just had dinner and you know, Mom thought you were asleep." I say.

"I thought you'd never ask." She said, grinning.

I walk back to the dining room and reheat a plate of delicious grilled deer meat and went back to Mesquite's room.

"Here you go, little kitten. I reheated it so it's extra nice now." I say, while patting on Mesquite's little blonde locks.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Trust me, my little kitten. I felt the same feeling as you are right now when I had my first reaping. Boy, was I worried." I comfort her.

"There's still a slight chance of me getting picked though." She says, while munching on the deer quickly.

"I know, and that's why I'm going to tell you this little secret tomorrow." I say, watching her still eating the deer like she hadn't eaten in years.

"_Wowzies,_ aren't you hungry?" I say, chuckling.

Time flies and in a blink of an eye she finishes her meal.

"We should probably go to sleep soon, little kitten. Do you want me to sleep in your room?" I ask her.

"Yes, duh, Peepee." She says.

"But first, before we sleep, you know what we have to do?" I ask.

"Brush our teeth!" She says, cheerfully.

"That's very true! Now let's do that then.."

-o-

The chickens in our backyard crow, signaling the start of the day. Exactly 5 A.M. Good, it's time to tell Mesquite the little _secret_ of my hunting.

"Kitty.. Kitty.. Wake up!" I say, waking Mesquite up.

"_Uughhhh, _can't I have five more minutes?" She says, groaning.

"_Noooo, _and we can't delay our little special deal, now can't we?" I say.

"Fine, I'm getting up." She says, still groaning.

After a few minutes of getting up and putting on coats, I ask Mesquite to come follow me.

We walk together through the already busy places of District 7, as Merchants open their shops and Seam folks go to the forests to chop down trees.

"So what exactly are you going to show me, huh, Peepee?" Mesquite asks me.

"Hush now little kitten, we're not there yet." I answer.

Finally we stand before the inactive fence which forms a boundary between the district and the wilderness.

"What now?" Mesquite asks.

"Now, we cross it." I say simply.

"What? Isn't that illegal?" She asks, innocently.

"It's only illegal if you get caught." I answer.

We pass the fence, and I grab my trusty bow and arrow which was hidden in a hollow log near the fence.

"So today I'm going to be teaching you the basics of archery, little kitten." I say, while giving her a new set of bow and arrows which I just bought from the market yesterday.

"There are ten steps in the art of archery. First of all, you need to learn the stance. Next, you need to know how to nock the arrow. Then, the set, set-up, and draw and load. After that, the anchor, transfer and hold, aim and expand, release, and finally, the follow through."

-o-

After a few hours of teaching Mesquite the art of archery, we go home and prepare ourselves for the Reaping. I take a bath, washing myself from the dirt on my body. I walk to Mesquite's room and comfort her.

"Hush now, it's going to be okay. They're not going to pick you." I say, hugging her.

"I know, Peepee."

"Shush, don't cry. You look beautiful" I say, looking at our reflection in the mirror.

I have a brown jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of black boots on, while Mesquite has a pair of little blue heels and a blue dress on.

The time shows 9.45 A.M.

"Come on, Mesquite, we don't want to be late for the Reaping, now do we?" I say.

Trust me, you do not want to be late for the Reaping. The last time someone does that, he got whipped until his back was all bloody.

We walk to the Justice Building and say goodbye to our family members, as Mesquite and I are the only ones still eligible for the Reaping. We get in line with the rest of the 12 to 18 year olds to register ourselves. Then, time passes, and the mayor of our district steps up to the podium on the stage and begins to read the same story he reads every year. It's the same old story about the history of Panem, the country that was once called North America. Then he tells us the history of how the Hunger Games were formed, through the wars that is called the Dark Days.

Then he reads the past District 7 victors, a small list consisting only Johanna Mason and Blight.

How encouraging, we only have two people who made it through the gruesome Hunger Games.

"Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 7 annual Hunger Games." Effie Trinket say the words _Hunger Games _with an audible sound of awe or some sort, as if the Hunger Games is an event she admires and love.

"As usual, ladies first."

Effie Trinket, our district's escort, proceeds to stand in front of one of the gigantic glass bowls, ready to pick a name to be slaughtered in the Hunger Games.

The whole district goes silent.

And then I heard it.

"Mesquite Mellark."

No.

It's Mesquite.

Out of all the names she could've picked, she picked Mesquite.

No.

My whole body goes numb, I feel like all of the oxygen in my lungs were taken away.

It couldn't have been her.

There has to be some kind of a mistake. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Her slip was one in thousands! The odds of her being chosen, so small, I'd not even worried of her getting picked. The odds were not entirely in everyone's favor but hers.

Then I see her. Blood drenched from her face, hands clenched in fists, walking with uncertainty, small steps up toward the stage, passing me.

"Mesquite!" My strangled cry comes out of my mouth, and every one of my muscles begin to work again.

"Mesquite!" I cry over and over again, the thoughts of her body being brutally murdered and mangled in the Arena flashing rapidly through my mind. It was unbearable.

With all of my might, I pushed her behind me.

And then I said it.

"I volunteer!" I gasp.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

A sort of confusion starts at the stage. District 7 has never had a volunteer in decades; a citizen of an outlying district volunteering for the Games is the same thing as brutal suicide.

I do not know what's going on in my mind.

Even if I volunteer, Mesquite still has to enter the Games.

And at this moment, I swear to protect her in the Games with all my heart.

"I believe we have a volunteer!" "Well, come on up, you two!" Effie Trinket chirps, with joy spilling out of her mouth.

I grab Mesquite's petite little hands, and we both walk up to the stage.

"Bravo! That's the spirit of the Games!"

"What's your name, dear?" Effie Trinket asks me.

I swallow the liquids in my mouth, hard. "Peeta Mellark." I say.

"I bet my shoes this little dear here is your sister, isn't she? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest display of tributes!" trills Effie Trinket.

Not one person in District 7 claps. Not even the ones betting on the slips.

The mayor finishes by reading the Treaty of Treason and motions for Mesquite and me to shake hands.

Her hands were trembling, full of terror and fear.

We turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem, _The Horn of Plenty_, begins to play.


End file.
